Broken Oath: The Surgeon's Spectacular Comeback

I am the best trauma surgeon in the New York mafia. For five years, I used my underground surgical earnings to fund my fiancé Dante's rise to Capo.

But after a grueling six-hour surgery saving his soldier, I walked out into the pouring rain to find his new ward, Sofia, sitting in my front passenger seat.

In our world, the front seat of a Capo's car is a throne that belongs exclusively to his future wife.

Yet Sofia was sitting there, wearing his tailored coat and drinking from the custom silver flask I bought him.

When I confronted them, Dante didn't apologize. Instead, he publicly humiliated me.

"Just get in the back, Serena. She is a traumatized kid having a panic attack."

He demanded I bend the knee to an associate, completely disregarding my authority and our sacred blood oath.

Sofia looked at me with wide, artfully innocent eyes, but hid a victorious smile behind my flask.

I had laundered half a million dollars to build his marital fortress. I had bought his loyalty with my own blood and scalpel.

Why was he treating my five years of absolute devotion like garbage over a manipulative girl's fake tears?

I didn't argue, and I didn't beg for his love.

I simply took off the massive diamond betrothal ring, dropped it into a biohazard bin full of clotted blood, and walked away.

If he wanted to give away my seat, I would take back my money, destroy his standing, and let the ultimate Boss of Bosses court me instead.